Page 19 of On the Map

I got slightly woozy but recovered. Even though I wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, I scanned the room for any papers or envelopes. Anything that might give me a hint if we'd done this for real or just for fun.

"But it's never fun, is it?" I said, aloud.

"Maya, come back to bed," Sloan said, again like this was a normal occurrence for him.

I shuffled through the clothes tossed about the room. At some point last night, I'd acquired a new pair of boots. Dollars to donuts, I'd bet these hadn’t been on sale. Somehow, I also came across my panties. Multi-tasking, I put them on while digging for my purse.

"Relax. Whatever's the matter, we'll deal with it." Sloan had a glazed, just-woke-up look.

His adrenaline clearly hadn't activated like mine.

"A-ha." I found a large manila envelope tossed on the sofa.

I knew this envelope. Because that's exactly how they handed out marriage licenses in Clark County. I looked to Sloan. He was oblivious and running his hand over his face like this wasn't the worst possible way to wake up.

I snagged the envelope in my grip, opened the seal, and my heart dropped because there was definitely a marriage license.

"No," I said. "No, no, no, no, no." Each no got progressively louder.

I sat on the sofa and stared at the license. There was another envelope marked with a Neon Nuptials Chapel logo, so I opened that one, too.

"Oh, God," I said, sifting through the photos.

Sloan and I with a Liberace actor in a chapel—clearly getting married. I dropped each photo to the floor as I went through them. The receipt in the middle said we'd splurged for the special package of memories.

Which was nice for us to have done, since I didn't remember a damn thing.

"Do you remember what happened?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I remember we got the margaritas. I was gonna call a ride share, but…" He reached to grab his phone, and he slid his thumb across the screen. "I didn't call a ride share." He blinked at his phone, rubbing his eyes.

My phone buzzed again.

I grabbed the nearest clothing—his flannel shirt. With my important bits covered, I checked my phone. I didn't answer Emily's call. Best not to let her know I broke the biggest rule of them all last night.

Instead, first, I confirmed they were good via their messaging.

They were.

Then I shot out a quick:

Emily & Angela: Hey, Gr8 Ngt. Everything's good here.

Then I figured I should add:

Emily & Angela: Don't wry! I'm w/Sloan!

I checked my call history; I'd called no one last night. That was good. If I didn't call anyone, then they didn't know.

Except… I checked my social media accounts. Yep, nothing there, either.

"Did you call anyone last night? I didn't call anyone last night. And I didn't post anything on any socials. Did you? Did you post?" I asked quickly.

"Uh…" Sloth style, he checked his phone. "No. No calls, texts, or anything else." He paused to study a slip of paper next to his cell.

"Maya, where are the rings?" he asked, his gaze lingering on a slip of paper in his hands.

He tossed back the covers and slid his legs over the side of the bed, tagging his boxers and pulling them on.